


Pillow talk

by TheCrimsonValley



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 08:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonValley/pseuds/TheCrimsonValley
Summary: Having been involved for years, there is a shift when one of the hunters starts courting a young woman in Yharnam.





	Pillow talk

The hunt had been far too long this time. As they climbed the stairs up to his residence their steps echoed with the same heavy nature as the beasts they had just previously slain. Henryk even found himself cursing as he fumbled for the key. His body was aching all over and his clothes felt so uncomfortable he had half been tempted to simply tear them off as soon as he entered the stairway. Thankfully his better judgement had gotten the upper hand.

He bumped the door open with his shoulder, allowing entrance for both him and Gascoigne, though his companion had to duck down quite a bit as to avoid bumping his head into the door frame. As soon as the door closed he started the procedure of removing his garb, banishing it to a corner of the room, giving a rather exhausted line that the other man was free to do the same would he so desire.

Yes the hunt had dragged on this night. Gazing through the window he could see the sky softly changing, the darkness being swallowed at the horizon by the sun that would soon bask the streets in its warm embrace. So long. Tugging off the last piece of his garb, a fleeting thought flew through his mind, a nagging feeling that it was his own mind that had made it longer.

Generally he would step into the scene of a hunt with a clear head. He carried the philosophy that if one brought the burdens of the mind into the hunt it was just a recipe for disaster. But this time he had come to break his own rules, although it had not been out of his own free will.

He threw a soft glance towards the massive hunter in the sofa. Gascoigne had removed the layers of his own garb, simply resting in his under shirt, head leaned backwards and arms propped up on the various pillows that surrounded him. He couldn’t help but to make a silent remark to himself that his companion looked exhausted.

A bitter thought flew through his mind, so out of the blue it almost made him nauseous. If Gascoigne were so tired why was he not trotting back to Viola? Against his own will, Henryk felt how he frowned. What sort of way was that for him to think? That was the talk of naïve and scorned youngsters in love, not a man of his own age and stature.

 

They hadn’t touched upon the subject though and that was what had been riding his mind the entire hunt. Gascoigne was smitten, that he could tell. His speech and mannerism had changed all so slightly whenever the woman was around. He himself had done what he thought was expected of him and simply backed down.

For so long they had been hunting companions and almost for the same amount of time had they also been intimate. Those lines had blurred until he could no longer make a difference of it, Gascoigne was his companion in both the hunt and out of it. Perhaps he had assumed that things could stay that way, desired it deep down within the very core of his being. And now that it was time for change, he found his mind could not keep up.

“Henryk, tug any harder at that button and it’s gonna come loose.”

The voice of the massive church hunter brought him out of his own thoughts. He just about choked back a gasp as he turned, putting on the usual gentle smile.

 

“Ah, you’re right again there, looks like it’s more stubborn than myself!”

 

His words sounded wrong as they left his lips, as if his voice did not belong to him. It had worked on routine for the last weeks, like a script being written down and then read once more, remaining the same no matter the mood of the narrator.

“Now then” he quickly added, doing an attempt to not let his thoughts slide “should I prepare you some tea before you head home?”

 

He heard Gascoigne give that familiar grunting and he knew what it meant. The man was displeased in some manner, it was impossible for him to hide it from anyone even less from Henryk himself.

“Come sit down.”

Of course he wished to protest. If he sat down they would talk and he felt petrified at the mere thought. What could possibly come out of such a discussion between them? With how things were unfolding, only bad news would be brought to the table.

 

Even though every nerve in his body screeched for him not to, Henryk soon found himself seated in the sofa. Despite the soft texture, only enhanced by the pillows, it felt like he was sitting on nails. A prisoner awaiting his execution. At the corner of his eye he could see Gascoigne moving all so slightly, leaning forward a tad, the large hands clasped together and resting onto his knees.

“Talk to me old man.”

It was not the line that he had expected and it caught him off guard enough to actually face his hunting partner. At the very same instance that he did, he regretted it deeply as it was awfully hard to think of any lies when he gazed into the pale milky eyes of the other man. He knew, deep down, that whatever Gascoigne asked, he would have to answer truthfully.

“Whatever should I talk about?” Henryk answered, trying to give a smile.

The grunting once more. He could see how the other hunter shuffled closer until their legs brushed up against one another. It felt like a thousand needles pricking his skin yet he had to fight the impulse to press himself closer. By the good blood had he missed it. Somewhere it felt like he was half a second away from throwing his arms around the other man’s neck.

“What’s brewing in that dome of yours?” Gascoigne asked, bringing a hand up to stroke over the messy dark hair of the other man.

 

Henryk felt a shiver running down his spine. Was this what bliss felt like? The simplicity of it was almost frightening yet this touch was the most desirable one he could ever imagine. Once more he had to fight not to give out a sigh of happiness. He had to keep his composure, after all, it was the last piece of dignity he could have in this situation.

“I’m perplexed as to why you are choosing to stay here.”

Somewhere it felt like a small revenge to see Gascoigne being the one surprised this time. It evened out the score, at least as far as he was concerned.

“You haven’t complained before.”

“Well, before you didn’t have a sweetheart waiting for you at home.”

As soon as he spoke, he regretted it deeply. How childish his voice had sounded, how hard it had pinched in his heart. Instinctively, Henryk turned his face away, his hands grasping the edge of his own trousers, squeezing the fabric between his fingers. For a moment all remained still between them, such a stillness that he could even hear his own pulse ringing in his ears.

Then, with an all too familiar strength, Gascoigne had tugged him up into his lap. Out of surprise he did try to push the massive hunter away but when the familiar arms closed around him in a hug, all anger seemed to melt. On pure instinct, Henryk buried his head in towards the man’s neck, his fingers grasping the man’s shirt. It felt like an eternity had passed as he drew in the smell of the other hunter, the texture of his beard and hair brushing towards the side of his face.

“So that’s what you’ve been such a baby about?” the church hunter said, his chest raising with a snigger “you’ve been huffing around like a scorned lady old man!”

Hearing this, Henryk gave an angry grunt of his own, softly slapping the massive chest with the palm of his hand as he looked up, the green eyes defiant in nature under his furrowed brows. He was only meet by a huge grin from his companion.

 

“Well if it makes you stop being so cold, I’ve told her about it.”

He felt his own mouth opening all so slightly, the jaw hanging low. Gascoigne had told her? About this? Just like that?

“Said if she wouldn’t have this, I wouldn’t have her.”

With these lines, the church hunter leaned in, placing a kiss onto Henryk’s cheek, the man still to shocked to really take it all in.

 

“So, would you mind going a little easier on her? She’s quite certain you hate her guts.”

“Heavens no!” Henryk blurted out, finally gathering up his words.

He once more felt Gascoigne’s fingers run through his hair, the massive man chuckling out a little “good”. His own mind was still trying to grasp all the information he had been feed. So Viola knew, and it seemed that she was not putting up a fuzz about it either. Quite the opposite, if she was worried that he harboured some ill feelings towards her.

Gascoigne’s lips brushing up towards his own was what drew him out of the thoughts once more. He felt his own heart soaring inside of his chest as he answered the kiss, quite hesitantly at first. Somewhere it was like experiencing it all once more, as if this was the very first time that they had been embraced like this.

“So, no more pouting old man?” Gascoigne murmured, his lips curved into a smile “I don’t fancy when you’re so cold.”

Henryk gave a soft sigh, shaking his head before placing a kiss onto the other man’s nose. No, he couldn’t possibly stay cold now. Not that he had ever desired to do so but it seemed his body had tried to defend himself from the possibility that he would never again feel this warmth. Quite a foolish mistake had been made. On a soft mental note he promised himself that he would properly apologize to Viola next time he saw her.

Feeling Gascoigne’s finger sliding down his neck and down onto his side drew him back to the current situation. There was a gleam in the massive hunters eyes that could do nothing but draw a smile from Henryk.

“Really? Is this the reason why you come crawling like a disobedient dog to me?”

With amusement he watched his companions lips form into a frown, bearing his corner teeth. All he could do at this however was to laugh, a laughter that was quickly silenced towards Gascoigne’s lips, his fingers sliding up to entangle into the white messy hair. Once more he felt the other man’s fingers moving onto his side, tugging him in close, their chests bumping together.

It was intoxicating, his mind growing numb with bliss as he allowed himself to drown into the kisses while feeling the rough fingers that slowly started to get him out of what little clothes he was still carrying. He only had half a mind to try and mimic the gesture, his fingers far too clumsy for it. It was not long until their lips broke away from one another and he had to choke back a laughter as he could see Gascoigne, quite feed up with the clumsy undressing, getting out of his own clothes.

As quickly as possible Henryk returned to his side, the feeling of their bare skin together bringing a new level of content. It was by now quite obvious that they were both more than bothered, although be it in a good way. With a rather teasing smirk, he softly let his own hip grind against the other man, feeling how warm it was and hearing that grunting, almost snarling, noise that escaped Gascoigne’s lips.

For once his companion beat him to the score, one of the massive hands simply tugging him closer into a kiss while the other grasped onto their members. Henryk found himself moaning, quite loudly, into the kiss. He was thankful that it was there to muffle it all out, the embarrassment of his own volume would have been enough to haunt him for the rest of his life.

Almost by instinct he started rocking his hip, meeting up with the gesture of Gascoigne’s hand. His mind was boggling and his breath short in his throat. And the warmth. The wonderful warmth of them both entangled like this, so close that they could almost be considered one and the same being, if only for a few seconds.

His mind gave in first, reaching a colourless explosion, his body trembling and a loud moan once more suffocated towards the church hunter’s lips. Gascoigne was not far behind, his moans almost roaring in nature, seemingly not caring who would hear or not.

With ease, the massive man fell backwards towards the pillows, tugging along his smaller companion. Henryk could do nothing but smile, his head resting onto his companion’s chest, feeling it rising and falling in intervals, the heart beating slowly coming to a calmer phase once more.

“So, old man, now that you’re in a better mood” Gascoigne huffed, his fingers playing with Henryk’s dark curls “you’re invited to tea, my place, no objections.”

A tired chuckle flew over the smaller hunter’s lips as he simply gave a sleepy “looking forward to it”.


End file.
